


Research Indicates

by Seiberwing



Category: Tanz der Vampire - Steinman/Kunze
Genre: Community: lgbtfest, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Vampire Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-19
Updated: 2012-07-19
Packaged: 2017-11-10 07:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seiberwing/pseuds/Seiberwing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Professor Abronsius knows a lot about vampires, but less than he should about his young assistant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Research Indicates

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the LGBTfest prompt "Tanz der Vampir, Alfred, How was he ever supposed to explain he LIKED the way Herbert "forced" him?".

As much as Professor Abronsius went on about immoral creatures of Hell, Alfred didn't really feel any different after Sarah bit him. 

Well, bar the horrible pain in his throat when it happened, and the resulting day-long coma, and the horrific feeling of shock the first time he woke up to find that the mirror by his bed showed him nothing, and the funny feeling he got whenever he thought about warm blood pulsing in the veins of a soft throat...

But _personally_ he felt no different and that had been the point he was trying to get at when Professor Abronsius had started ranting twenty minutes ago. So far he still wasn't able to get a word in edgewise. Herbert had left after five, citing a need for a bath, and Alfred wasn't sure the professor had even noticed. 

"Williamsburg and Brian clearly set down the premise of vampiric hypnosis or mind-influence, but Herbert is not your direct sire nor are you still a mere mortal, which by Williamsburg and Brian leaves out any possibility of him using hypnotic powers on you directly." The professor paced the room as he talked, waving his arms in Alfred's general direction while the younger man stood awkwardly in front of the bed and toyed with his shirt sleeves.

Privately, Alfred was starting to wonder if Professor Abronsius actually enjoyed being a vampire; certainly he hadn't seemed that upset after the initial shock and subsequent overdramatic horror. The professor had spent his whole life hunting the creatures and grabbing every little scrap of information he could, and now he could study them at his leisure merely by examining his own body and plying His Excellency with questions until the count locked him in the library just to get a moment's peace.

On the other hand, perhaps it was for the best. Caught up in his scholarly fervor, Professor Abronsius had been all but oblivious to the way Herbert acted towards Alfred and only finding the two of them in bed together (still mostly clothed, thank Go--Satan) seemed to put the concept through his aged head. But even then, it was still all academia to the professor. Herbert and his kin had been established as twisted servants of the darkest powers before they even arrived at the castle, and Alfred--loyal, naive, eager to please but not that sharp Alfred--was a simple victim of the other vampire's dread attentions like the rest of his victims. The possibility that Alfred might actually be willing in some manner never crossed the professor’s mind.

“Do you remember anything?” Professor Abronsius asked thoughtfully, turning and striding towards him. “The world through a haze of mist? Your body moving against your will, under another’s control? Or was it simply a blank spot in your memory?” He took Alfred gently by the chin and looked into his eyes. Finding nothing there of note he pulled away and continued his pacing, muttering citations to himself.

“I don’t think that’s what happened,” Alfred murmured to the carpeting, but the professor didn’t seem to notice. 

"And the matter of the biting, now that confuses me. What purpose could a vampire have in biting another vampire? I've never heard of it, although I suppose most scholars wouldn't be able to observe it personally." The professor stopped before Alfred and pulled back the edge of his shirt, inspecting the shallow fang marks Herbert had left on his shoulder. Alfred recoiled, pulling his shirt back up and trying to turn the marked half of his body away from Abronsius' prying eyes.

"Draws blood, but not enough for feeding,” the professor mused. “Interesting."

"I think he just does it for fun." Alfred was privately a bit grateful that warm blood no longer flowed through his veins. If it did he'd be red as a lobster.

"Odd. Very odd."Abronsius set the knuckle of his forefinger to his pale lips. "I shall have to consult my notes on this. Perhaps His Excellency would--"

"Professor, please, could we not have his Excellency involved?" Alfred pleaded. Von Krolock knew, of course, he wasn't completely blind, but having one third party know all the details was bad enough.

For once, Professor Abronsius seemed to consider having a modicum of concern for Alfred’s dignity. "I...suppose," he admitted reluctantly. "The whole matter must be degrading enough for you without spreading the news about. Do you think he knows already? I've heard that--"

"Professor!” the younger man whined, feeling the need to blush again. His hands came upward to cover his mortified expression.

Professor Abronsius sighed, patting his ward gently on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Alfred. It's not your fault."

Behind his hand Alfred made a small groan that, with the right mindset, could have been taken as a sign of agreement. 

"But if the hypnosis does take you again, do try and retain enough presence of mind to make a report on it, I'd like to hear a firsthand experience."

"Yes, Professor." Technically he hadn't said that it had happened in the first place, but there was enough room for selective omission that it wasn't quite lying. He'd never been able to flat-out lie to Abronsius, not convincingly.

"Good boy." After another comforting pat and a fatherly smile, Professor Abronsius turned on his heel and left the room with a small grin and a rather distant expression that revealed he was already making scholarly notes in his head about the new phenomenon, despite the fact that he'd never really be able to publish them. 

Alfred fell backwards onto the crimson satin of the bedsheets, one arm sprawled out to the side and the other covering his face. He felt his new fangs poking into his wrist and quickly shut his mouth to avoid poking even more obvious holes in his skin--the fangs took some getting used to and while the wounds healed quickly enough they were embarrassing while they lasted. A novice's marks, von Krolock had called them, like the bruises a child would get during failed attempts to walk.

"Is that tiresome old man gone yet, Alfred?" called a faintly annoyed voice from the bathroom. 

"Yes, he's gone." Alfred pulled his collar up a bit higher and touched the bitemarks at his shoulder gingerly. He was halfway sure Herbert was making them obvious on purpose.

"Wonderful." Herbert slipped back into the room, still clad in only his nightshirt. "He's such an annoying little busybody, I don't know how my father puts up with him."

The older vampire coyly stepped nearer as if stalking him and Alfred, as always, remained frozen to the spot and watched Herbert the way a frightened deer might watch a wolf. "Hypnotic trances, really,” Herbert quipped, mimicking the professor’s dry, scholarly tone for a moment. “Would I want to enthrall you into lying back for me?" The tips of his pale fingers brushed Alfred's equally pale cheek. "Would I need to?"

"I..."

"No more words now. I think we've had enough of them today." Herbert leaned in, bare inches away from a kiss, and Alfred reluctantly--it was always reluctantly, he’d died easier than his own hesitancy--completed the motion.

Perhaps there was something hypnotic in Herbert's piercing, enthralling stare and fanged grin that made Alfred fall back on the bed, open his arms and let the older vampire ravish his lips. But he was quite sure there was nothing supernatural about how much he wanted it.


End file.
